Wings of Tavea (27 page)

The smoke suddenly jerked forward, whipping around Emane’s torso, burning him as if his skin had been laid open by a hot poker. Emane fell to his knees and screamed, clawing at the force. But the touch only brought more burns to his hands and arms. The smoke continued to writhe around him, burning with an intensity Emane had not thought possible. He fell to his side and curled into a ball, helpless against the attack. Vaguely, as if from a dream, Emane could hear Dralazar laughing over the sound of his screams.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Answers in Wings

ALCANDER BURST THOUGH THE door hauling a struggling Drustan. As soon as the door shut behind them, Alcander dropped his arm.

Drustan straightened, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “I think you enjoy making these spats convincing.”

“I was protecting you,” Alcander said, sitting next to Kiora. “You wouldn’t want to return home tonight if they think you are in here conspiring with us.”

“Well, if we want to make it really convincing, I should get to throw a punch or two. It would gain me some friends.”

“Drustan,” Kiora interrupted. “Dralazar took Emane.”

Drustan immediately focused on Lomay. “How did this happen? You assured me he was safe.”

“I don’t know. But we need to know what Dralazar’s next move will be if we are to get him back. I thought perhaps you could help.”

Drustan fingered his bracelet, twirling it around his wrist. Kiora was sure he was nervous to reveal exactly how much he knew Dralazar.

“Drustan, please,” she begged.

“Kiora is convinced that Dralazar will kill Emane,” Lomay said.

Drustan sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “No, he won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Alcander demanded, leaning forward. “He is evil. Evil shows no mercy.”

Drustan swallowed nervously. “I know Dralazar better than I wish I did. You are right—he shows no mercy. He took Emane for a reason. If he wanted him dead, he was more than capable of striking him down where he stood.” Drustan shook his head. “I suspect he took Emane to lure Kiora out. Which means he has figured out who she is.”

Alcander looked between Kiora and Drustan. “How would he not have known?”

“In Kiora’s home, things were different. Soluses were called whenever there was a need.” Drustan began walking back and forth across the floor with his hands behind his back, tall and proud, the way Kiora remembered him from the colony when she had first met him. “They defeated evil a thousand years ago and lived in peace. Dralazar returned as prophesied, and Kiora was called as the Solus. Not
your
Solus,” he pointed, “but ours. It was after she went through the change that Eleana and I began to suspect her calling was bigger than we had thought.” Alcander’s eyes darted to Kiora, fixing on the white streak in her dark hair. “Dralazar would not have come after her unless he realized what she really was. With Kiora gone, he would have been free to overrun the land. It is what he always wanted.”

“Epona told me he would seek help from the outside,” Kiora said.

Drustan nodded. “Perhaps, but he didn’t need any help with you gone. And I suspect that Dralazar realized his mistake in opening the gate. Whatever is on this side of the mountain will filter through eventually. Either good will overrun him . . . or things more evil, stronger than he, will take Meros from him.”

“Why doesn’t he just put the gate back up?” Alcander asked.

“I have a suspicion.” Drustan looked at Kiora. “He needed Eleana’s help when he erected it the first time didn’t he?” Kiora nodded. “Even if Dralazar figured out a way to perform the magic himself, he would be too weak to enact the spell.”

Alcander pushed himself up. “I am sorry to interrupt this delightful history lesson, but what are we going to do about Emane?”

Lomay raised one eyebrow. “You seem awfully concerned with this Witow.”

“He saved my life twice.”

“Is that the only reason?” Lomay said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or is it perhaps that you have realized you were wrong? That Witows are not so worthless after all?”

Alcander’s previous mask of indifference slammed down over the concern he had been showing. “Do you have any ideas, or should we engage in a philosophical conversation on the worth of others while Emane is mauled to death by a dragon?” His voice was cold and steely.

Kiora couldn’t help but feel gratitude for Alcander’s sudden concern.

“Calm yourself, Alcander, it was a simple question.” Lomay turned his attention to Drustan. “How sure are you that Dralazar won’t hurt Emane?”

Drustan looked at Kiora before dropping his gaze. “I did not say that. I said he wouldn’t kill him.”

“I see.” Lomay cleared his throat. “That is an important distinction.”

Kiora pulled at the leg of her pants, twisting the fabric. “Will he torture him?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Yes.”

She flinched, a wave of nausea rolling over her. “At least he can heal himself,” she said, trying to comfort herself.

Drustan placed his hand on her shoulder. “I fear that will make it worse.” His voice was low and hoarse. “You can keep torturing when the victim heals.”

“It should have been me,” Kiora groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Dralazar would have finished you off before you knew he was there. He wouldn’t risk you escaping again.” Looking at the others, Drustan said, “We must be careful. Dralazar will keep Emane alive until Kiora is within range. He would love nothing more than to kill Emane in front of her.”

“How do you know that?” Alcander asked.

Drustan looked him straight in the eye. “We must get Emane out before he can torture Kiora with his death.”

Kiora jumped to her feet. “The Wings,” she said. “I didn’t see where Dralazar took Emane, but the Wings would have! They can show us where Emane is.”

Lomay shook his head. “No. I do not like to depend on the Wings for that which we can do ourselves.”

“What?” she said, flabbergasted.

“Here we go again,” moaned Alcander. “What if it takes her a month to figure out where Emane is? Are we going to let him be tortured until then?”

“Things need to take their course. Even if we knew where Emane was, Kiora is not ready to retrieve him.”

“No, she’s not,” Alcander agreed.

“Hey,” Kiora argued. “I have fought Dralazar once already. And I am stronger now.” She made it sound convincing, but she knew full well she had lucked out both times.

“I am not just worried about Dralazar,” Alcander said. “I am worried about

everything else we will run into between here and there. Lomay, I can’t prepare her any further without knowing what we are preparing for. Don’t you think it would be wise for us to know where Emane is so we can plan? Get reinforcements if necessary?”

“We have been over this before. I—”

“No, we haven’t,” Alcander interrupted. “You say the Wings prevent us from making our own choices. We have made this choice: we are rescuing Emane. We need information to prevent someone from killing the only hope we have left!” He surged to his feet. “We have waited for the Solus and the Protector for thousands of years. Watched our world wither and falter under evil. There is nothing left. Nothing! Save a few of us rebels hiding in caves and under rocks.” His voice reached a crescendo, his fists clenched at his side. “We cannot sit and wait for Dralazar to kill the Protector, nor should we allow Emane to suffer on principal. If the Wings can show us what we need, then we must use them.”

“Alcander—” Lomay began again.

“Just trust me,” he interrupted. “If you think I will jeopardize the only hope we have left, then you don’t know me very well.”

* * *

ALCANDER LED THE WAY back to the Wings.

“Thank you,” Kiora said from behind.

“Don’t thank me yet. I don’t know if it will work.” As they reached the top of the canyon, Alcander strode onto the bridge without a backward glance. Kiora stopped as the bridge swayed in the breeze. She closed her eyes, wrapping her hands around the rope and trying to focus on good memories. Emane and her, laughing at the Shifters’ celebration, where they honored Emane for receiving the magic from the mountain. She nearly grinned remembering the Shifter mouse that had danced right into her dinner plate.

“You know,” Alcander observed dryly from the other side, “the slower you go, the longer you are on that bridge.”

Her eyes fluttered open as the mouse faded away, leaving her with the ropes. “Yes, thank you.” Taking a deep breath, she hurried forward, her feet finally hitting stone. She scurried to catch up with Alcander, who had already moved on towards the watery door.

Walking through the dark Kiora asked, “Do you think we will be able to find him?” There was silence for a few minutes;, the only footsteps she heard were hers. She thought it was because he walked so silently, but within a few steps she ran into his back. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“We have to,” Alcander answered. “There is no other option.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t lose him.”

“I know.” His voice hitched in a most unexpected way. “We are almost there,” he said, abruptly changing subjects.

The sound of roaring water was getting louder with every step, and Kiora’s stomach rolled in anticipation. Once again she ran smack into Alcander.

“I thought at some point you would get tired of walking in the dark. Apparently, I was wrong.” Kiora could hear the smile in his voice. Opening her hand, she called a ball of flame. “I have no desire to repeat the last accident I had here, especially without Emane.”

She eyed the rock overhang that had sliced Alcander’s head the last time.

“Normally I would say ladies first, but if you don’t mind . . .”

“Not at all,” she said, motioning to the roaring water. He leapt in and she followed, holding her breath.

The water was just as cold as she remembered. But the trip wasn’t as terrifying, having some idea of how long it would take before she could fill her lungs. It did not, however, lesson the burn. Bursting through the surface, she sucked in mouthfuls of stale air.

The inside of the cave was the kind of dark you forgot existed, where nothing was visible, not even your own hand in front of your face. Reaching up, Kiora shot a burst of light at where she thought one of the torches hung. She missed, but it did show her where she needed to aim. Soon the room was glowing.

Alcander was already to the side when Kiora started swimming. Offering his hand, he pulled her up.

“Are you ready?”

“I hope so.” Stepping over to the Wings, she jumped as they flared in response to her mental request.

A picture came into view of an elaborate looking home, far greater than the humble homes she was used to in Meros, though smaller than a castle.

Alcander drew a sharp breath. “The Manor?”

“What is the . . .?” Kiora trailed off as the picture in the Wings zoomed in on the window, allowing them to see inside. Emane was trapped within bars that moved and hissed with magic. He lay on the floor, barely recognizable through the blisters and burns that covered his body. His face oozed liquid beneath his closed eyes. Kiora gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Emane stirred, proving he was alive, but a moan of pain escaped his lips that nearly broke her heart.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no!” she shrieked, spinning away from the Wings and straight into Alcander’s chest. Sobbing, she buried her head as he slowly and cautiously wrapped his arms around her.

She heard Emane moan again behind her. “Make it stop,” she cried. Whirling on the Wings, she screamed, “Stop it!” before shoving her face back into Alcander’s chest.

The Wings immediately went black.

She took ragged, gasping breaths before pushing away from Alcander. Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she set her jaw. “Do you know where he is?”

Alcander’s face clouded. “Yes, but—”

“Come on.” Kiora grabbed his hand and pulled him to the exit. “We’re going now.”

He planted his feet, jerking his hand free. “Kiora, we need to prepare.”

“Did you see him?” she shouted. “We can’t just leave him. They’ll do it again, and again, and again.” Her knees wobbled and she dropped.

Alcander, moving faster than she would have thought possible, caught her before she slammed into the rock. She was shaking uncontrollably. “I can’t leave him there, I can’t, I can’t.” She repeated it over and over again, sinking deeper into despair. She was vaguely aware of Alcander running his hands over her hair, trying to soothe her. She moved from hysterics to complete numbness, releasing everything and retreating into nothingness. She stared blankly at the wall in front of her, allowing his touch to comfort her.

“Kiora,” Alcander finally said. She wouldn’t have responded, but his voice sounded so strained.

Blinking, she looked up at him. He was pale, even for him, his pupils small and constricted. Startled, she sat up. “What’s the matter?”

As she broke contact he relaxed a little, and then smiled grimly. “When you dump magic, you are a bit much to handle.”

She collapsed in on herself. “I’m sorry.”

“Kiora,” he said, his color returning to normal. “We will save Emane, but we have to prepare. You have no idea what we are up against.”

“And what is that?” she asked, struggling against her desire to retreat back into the numbness. It was so much easier there.

“I don’t even know myself,” he said. “There are rumors, stories. The Manor has some connection to the Shadow, so we can’t get much. Not through the Wings, and not from anyone who has been there . . . because no one ever comes back.”

She looked up slowly, her hair hanging in her face. “How can we prepare for something you don’t understand? If it will make no difference we should go now, before Dralazar has time—”

“No,” Alcander said sharply. “You can’t get so emotionally involved.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed quickly. Pushing herself to her feet, she stood over him. “I will always get emotionally involved, always. It is who I am, and that is what makes me different. If I didn’t get emotionally involved, I would have left this forsaken place as soon as I figured out how dire it was. I would have gone home, tried to put the gate back in place, and lived the rest of my life in peace. But I care, and I will always care, and it will always hurt.” Her eyes welled up again. “This,” she motioned to herself, “is your Solus, and you will not train the caring out of me.”